Memoirs of a Las Gidi Barbie

And vice versa...

A couple of weeks ago I came across this female's profile on LinkedIn. 

It was phenomenal. Ivy League Schools. Double Majors. She writes articles, papers, Oxford trained. She's now living in Nigeria while working on her Ph.D and she started this foundation where she is the CEO and giving back to society in some rural area even I wouldn't live in. I looked her up more online. So little information about her personal life except her professional life. It dominated the search history. There were some pictures taken of her at News Conferences and Corporate Launches, but none of her FB pictures made the search history. She is also pretty, not stunningly beautiful. Pretty, lovely body, fit build, busy-woman-who-squeezes-in-yoga-when-she-can type of build, and her hair and makeup - minimalist perfection. For that 30 minutes or so I perused the little I could find out about this woman's life, I wanted to be her. There are some women I simply want to be. I come across their profiles on LinkedIn and as I read through their stats I want to be them. They make me want to be them when I am older, and have my life together. These are the women I am threatened by and a little voice in me always whispers to me, "Why can't you be more like this Anita? Instead you're just trifling, sitting on your butt, not advancing yourself." And it makes me work hard, and strive to become this phenomenal woman.

In that vein, when a man wants to leave, I always think, please tell me you're leaving me for a woman who has these type of stats, stats that make me want to be them. Make your journey away from me, worth my while, make me feel as if I didn't measure up, so if I bump into you two at some event and she's the Ph.D holder and I'm the "trying to keep a job with her Master's degree," it'll give me something to look up to, to aspire to become...she can be my "big sister." If she's physically pretty, skinnier, Buckhead Barbie (as we said in the ATL) or Las Gidi Barbie (in Lagos) then, what's the point. You just proved you were looking for plastic and not substance. Because when you come right down to it, the brain stays with you, the cerebral mind is a heart tug, a jolt like no other. Beauty and brains..they meant it when they coined that phrase.

Beauty fades. When we grow older, parts of us that we thought were really taut start to sag or wrinkle. Money is not always with us. One day you may be able to afford luxury trips and designer wear and the next, maybe not. You should be able to split a pizza in the car, and slum it in a no-electricity flat, if need be. But the cerebral mind, the mind blowing intellect, it stays with you. That's why some "pretty boys" you see them with the most basic looking women. Look up that woman's stats, she's the UN on 2 legs, she is "Amal Clooney." Can you compare her stats to all the other women George Clooney had been with? It was clear that her mind, that indivisible brain had totally and completely mindf*cked him, and there was no more doubt as to why he needed, dude just knew he had to marry this woman.

So when you leave me, please see all the women I look up to, make me want to be like this your new woman. Make me aspire to be her, to be a better version of myself. Don't tell me she is caring, because that's all relative. Don't tell me she's intelligent, because if she hasn't written papers, articles and term papers, that's all relative too. Even if she's street smart, that's all relative too because we've all been through some mean streets, some bite harder than others. And please don't tell me, she's a good cook, because you know, WOMEN are NOT meant to be FOR THE KITCHEN. I just want you to leave me for someone that makes sense, not some Las Gidi Barbie because that just belittles everything I am about and...that would truly be a shame, to all my writing, my little intellect, my efforts to expand my mind, my little knowledge of the world from the few travels I've done (that I had to use my single girl money to pay for), to my being.

This is my somber thought (well not so much) of today. Men leave for the oddest reasons and for the oddest women, and it's okay if they want to leave, just please, GO. But don't try to justify it by saying, you were not my type, we were not compatible, we had different ideologies and principles, or you were not ready because you were saving yourself for Las Gidi Barbie all that time...and feeding me those lies. Don't say anything, just leave, as a matter of fact, don't even get here. Don't get here and make me share, expose my cerebral mind/body/soul with you for you to opt out and leave for local plastic content. I said this the last time, and I am repeating it. Leave me for someone that makes sense...and I mean it this time, otherwise you're just schtupping the body without the mind....and if that's what turns you on, I guess I fell for the wrong version of you. The version I thought needed more cerebral content.

To close out this lengthy shrewdly worded post, I would like to share a vision of a sista girl I greatly admire that she has shared with the world in all her thick glory, in a body that reminds me a lot of mine. There were times I hated to be this thick because I thought it was a problem. IT was the problem. But when I see women like these, it makes me fully embrace my folds, my curves, my thickness and richness. If you were running from the thickness, it's a pity because these curves (this 'Orobo') are here to stay. 

I am all woman and I won't let any man make me feel like anything less.

Good luck with Barbie.

#WomensMarch #SelfLove